An Evening with Julia Watson
by DianaStorm09
Summary: My first Sherlock fan fiction! Set after "HLV", Molly Hooper is baby-sitting John and Mary's daughter when Sherlock comes by seeking medical attention. A Sherlolly one-shot.


**An Evening with Julia Watson**

**This is my first Sherlock fan fiction. I actually have been working on a different Molly Hooper piece when inspiration struck me for this one-shot. I dedicate it to Katherine-with-a-K, my favorite fan fiction author, who has encouraged me these past few weeks to finish and post this piece.**

**A note of caution: I'm a non-native speaker of English living in the United States, so please forgive me for any mistakes and for potentially mixing up British and American English words/expressions.**

**I don't own any of these characters. The name I chose for John and Mary's baby is my niece's first name. I really hope you enjoy this story.**

It was a late Friday afternoon when Sherlock let himself into Molly Hooper's flat, picking her lock as he had done so many times in the past that the pathologist had given up chiding him for it. So Molly only smiled a little reproachfully at the consulting detective as he stepped into her home. She was standing in front of her book-case, a delicate wooden structure about to collapse under the weight of the many medical books and journals it carried. There were also some photo albums, mostly from her childhood, and a few romance novels, Molly's guilty pleasure. She liked to read those whenever she yearned for a temporary escape into the fictional life of a female protagonist who would predictably end up with the dashing yet conflicted hero. A hero that would swear eternal love to his beloved in the end and ride off with her into the sunset. And here was her own 'knight in shining armor' picking her lock, his usually neat clothes wrinkled, his curly hair looking disheveled and cuts and bruises on his face.

"Sherlock, what happened to you?" the young pathologist asked with concern in her voice. Sherlock froze at the sight of Molly walking towards him. To his utmost surprise, she was carrying little Julia Watson in her arms; Julia's head resting on Molly's shoulder, and Molly lightly patting the baby's back. Squinting his eyes in confusion, he quickly scanned the room for a trace of Julia's parents, but the only Watson present was his best friend's baby. The burp cloth on Molly's shoulder revealed that Sherlock's goddaughter had just been fed, but it didn't help figuring out what baby Julia was doing in Molly's flat in the first place.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" Molly asked a bit more loudly, now standing right in front of him and looking up at him to try assessing his injuries.

"I just solved a case, a bit boring, just a five, actually, but I require your professional attention," Sherlock responded mechanically, as his mind was going through numerous scenarios possibly explaining why Julia was here.

In that moment, the baby belched loudly. Molly's face turned into a grin.

"Well, come on in and sit down, I'll take a look at your battle wounds," she said. Once Sherlock sat down on her sofa, she held out his goddaughter towards him.

"Julia will keep her Uncle Sherlock company while I go get the first aid kit," Molly said and kissed the bit of fuzzy hair on the baby's head as she handed John's and Mary's daughter over to Sherlock. Julia blinked up at godfather from her blue eyes.

Sherlock smiled at John's daughter: "Even to a three months old like you it must be quite obvious why I came to see Molly. Now, what are _you_ doing here, Miss Watson?"

Molly came back and placed the first aid kit on the coffee table before carefully taking Julia out of Sherlock arms.

"Tell your Uncle Sherlock that you're with Auntie Molly because your Mummy and Daddy went to Cornwall this weekend." The pitch of Molly's voice had suddenly gone up.

Sherlock frowned in annoyance, not sure if it was Molly speaking in a higher voice or the news that his best friend left London without telling him. "What would John and Mary want to do in Cornwall?"

Molly blushed a little when she explained: "Well, you know, to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary, just the two of them. They deserve a little alone time after these past few months of sleepless nights and nappy changes. Isn't this right, my little darling?" Again, Molly's voice changed, and she lightly bounced Julia up and down while making a silly face at the little girl. Sherlock wanted to point out to her that the movement would probably cause Julia to spit up any undigested milk all over Molly's sweater - not that he'd mind as the blue sweater with green turtle design looked like something Julia would pick to wear if she was 5 years old. But before he could say anything, he noticed how Julia's entire face changed; giving Molly a big, toothless smile. More than that, she even started to giggle and tried to touch Molly's face with her little hands. Molly's smile widened and her eyes sparkled, she was completely enraptured by Julia. Playfully, she started kissing Julia's fingers, which in turn elicited more giggles from the little girl. Sherlock looked on in disbelief. Julia never smiled at him like that, and he was her godfather after all.

After what seemed an eternity to Sherlock, Molly put Julia down on a pink blanket she had spread out and put baby toys within reach.

"It's tummy time for you, Miss Watson, just like your mummy ordered," Molly said kindly. She turned around to Sherlock and asked: "Sherlock, while I clean up your battle wounds, can you please keep an eye of Julia?"

Sherlock, still miffed that his own goddaughter seemed to like Molly better than him, responded rather stiffly: "Obviously I won't take an eye off my goddaughter."

Molly stated in a light tone: "You seem displeased with something."

"I don't understand why John and Mary asked you to watch Julia when I could have done so," Sherlock said tersely.

"Actually, they didn't ask me, I offered. Knowing their one year wedding anniversary was coming up, I figured they may want to get away for a bit and just – enjoy themselves. So I suggested they could fall back on me as baby sitter if they had any travel plans," Molly responded innocently while putting on disposable gloves and taking a close look at the cuts on Sherlock's face.

Molly's answer left Sherlock momentarily speechless. Once again Molly had demonstrated that she was one of the kindest and most thoughtful friends someone could wish for! Of course she would remember the wedding anniversary, while he himself, John's best man after all, hadn't. Well, Sherlock argued in his mind, it most certainly must have helped that Molly's own break-up with Tom was shortly after the Watson wedding, so it wasn't difficult for her to remember the date John and Mary exchanged their vows, wasn't it? But then, Sherlock thought, she always remembered these little things that seemed so unessential to him; anniversaries, birthdays, holidays. Molly would be sending cards and giving gifts because she was always considerate about others, never expecting anything in return. And here he was, sitting on her sofa while she was tending to his injuries with her warm and soft hands. 'Think of something to say, _think_,' Sherlock urged himself, as he felt that odd warmth grow inside his chest, that sentiment triggered by thoughts of Molly's abundant kindness, and Sherlock decided he needed to suppress that feeling as quickly as possible. He couldn't lose control right now with Molly's face so close to his.

"Do you even know how to change a nappy?" Sherlock asked, groaning internally that this was the first thing that had come to his mind to say.

"I actually contemplated I'd call you for that," Molly retorted with a wicked grin. Upon seeing Sherlock's shocked expression, she laughed a little. "Of course I know how to change her nappy, and also how to give her a bottle, burp her, and keep her entertained."

She was carefully cleaning Sherlock's wounds and, since he wasn't saying anything, she continued: "While you and John were out solving cases, Mary and I have gotten quite close these past few months, and so have Baby Julia and I." Molly threw a loving glance over to the blanket where said baby was lifting her arms and legs as if she was playing to be an airplane, all while making adorable babbling noises. Then Molly turned her attention back to Sherlock's face and said: "These cuts aren't too deep, they won't need any stitches. I'll cover them up, then I'll get you an ice-pack for the swelling."

"Thank you," Sherlock said, his voice flat. Molly's hands continued working in calm efficiency, and the only sounds in her flat were coming from little Julia who continued babbling from her blanket, now holding on to a toy that made rattling noise when shaken.

"There, we're done," Molly said kindly and took off the disposable gloves. She grabbed the first aid kit: "Please don't leave Julia out of your eyes."

"No need to remind me, Molly," Sherlock said, but this time much gentler, and he proceeded to join Julia on the floor. When Molly came back with an ice-pack for him, she found him next to Julia, having moved all her toys out of reach for her, and the baby stretching her pudgy little arms towards the rattling toy she had previously held, now out of her reach.

"Oh Sherlock, she won't be able to grab any of those." Yet when Molly sat down next to Sherlock and tried to move the toys closer to Julia, Sherlock objected.

"She has to learn sooner or later," Sherlock insisted. Molly held back, anticipating a swift reaction from Sherlock's goddaughter. Julia very quickly realized that she wouldn't reach her toys and promptly started crying in frustration. Molly glanced at Sherlock's sheepish face as he moved the toys back into Julia's easy reach, but the damage was done and Julia's wailed at the top of her voice. When Julia cried like this at the Watsons, Sherlock would typically excuse himself and escape to the quietness of his flat on Baker Street, but he couldn't get himself to do that now, feeling a little, well quite, responsible for bringing about this outburst of emotion in his best friend's daughter. If he had listened to Molly, Julia would have played on contentedly. Not knowing how to respond, he helplessly padded Julia's back hoping it would soothe her, which it didn't.

"It's alright, you can now reach all your toys again," Sherlock said, and started a futile attempt to make Julia grab her favorite giraffe that, according to John, was called Sophie, but nothing he did made Julia calm down, and he looked in shock at the tears streaming down her face.

Finally, Molly took matters into her own hands.

"Come here sweetheart, it's all ok," she cooed, lifting Julia up and rocking back and forth with her in her arms.

Sherlock couldn't believe how calm Molly remained at the emotional outburst from John's daughter, still crying in Molly's arms.

"Maybe she's hungry. Where do you keep her bottle?" Sherlock got up, ready to bolt to Molly's kitchen.

Molly shook her head vigorously and scrunched her nose in mock humor.

"She shouldn't be hungry yet, but I think a nappy change is in order!" She carefully got up, and Sherlock extended his arm to help her get to her feet with the baby in her arms. Molly's eyes lit up for a fleeting moment at the gesture, but she reminded herself that Sherlock did that as he felt responsible for Julia.

"Do you need help changing Julia?" Sherlock asked hesitantly, yet Molly shook her head once more, this time with a gentle smiled: "We'll be fine, won't we, Julia? You better put that ice-pack back on your face, Sherlock."

So Sherlock took a seat on the sofa again while Molly retreated to the guest bedroom to change Julia, and the crying soon stopped. Sherlock, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder, spotted the latest draft of Molly's research essay on the coffee table and started browsing through it while pressing the cold pack on one side of his face.

The quietness in the living room even coaxed Toby out of hiding, and he joined Sherlock on the sofa. Molly's cat and Sherlock were typically not very fond of one another, as each of them felt that they had to compete with each other at some point for Molly's attention, but right now they seemed to have mutually agreed on a truce. So Sherlock patted the cat's head for a bit, then grabbed a pen and added his thoughts to Molly's research paper.

"Brilliant paper, but that's our Molly, isn't it?" he said after a while, looking down at Toby as if in expectation of seeing some sort of agreement from the feline. Toby only stared at Sherlock with his green eyes. Sherlock patted his head again: "Who would have known an outstanding scientist like our Molly would have such strong maternal skills?"

Molly walked back into the room: "Who are you talking to?"

Sherlock looked flustered for just a short moment, but regained his composure very quickly. "Your cat. Toby came out of hiding."

Molly smiled, then asked Sherlock: "I was about to start cooking some dinner. Would you like to eat with me tonight?"

"Yes," Sherlock said, and then he added: "That would be nice." The look of sincerity in his eyes and voice made Molly blush and she looked down at Julia, who had gotten a hold of one of her stuffed animals and sucked on it happily. "Do you think you could entertain Julia while I quickly prepare the food and put it in the oven? Without making her cry?" she added slyly.

"My goddaughter will be perfectly fine in my arms," Sherlock said, putting aside the ice back and pen and papers to take Julia from Molly's arms, lingering to hold on to Molly's fingers for just a moment longer than necessary as they transferred the little girl between them. Molly blushed promptly and mumbled: "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

While Molly was cooking, Sherlock started telling the baby stories from past cases he has worked on with her father. His deep voice had a soothing effecting onJulia, whose closed eyes and deep, regular breathing showed that she had fallen asleep.

As the flat filled with the scent of the chicken simmering in what Sherlock deduced to be a masala sauce, Molly came to join Sherlock on the sofa, Toby sleeping between them. Sherlock brought up her research paper, which they were discussing in detail until Julia started to get a bit fussy. Molly, knowing that Sherlock goddaughter could make quite a ruckus when hungry, immediately headed to the kitchen and warmed the bottle. Said bottle was ready just in time before Julia's growing agitation became vocal. Molly helped Sherlock adjust his arm so that Julia's head was a bit higher than the rest of her body, and then gave him the bottle to feed Julia. Since Sherlock looked down at Julia with a genuine smile while feeding her, Molly allowed herself to take a mental picture of this moment, of the man she couldn't stop loving holding this little girl so tenderly and feeding her so carefully. She knew, she was doomed, she would never get this image out of her head.

When Julia finished her bottle, Sherlock glanced at Molly and asked: "Do you think I can burp her too?"

Molly smiled. "Of course, it may require a little patience though, not really your strong suit." The pathologist couldn't resist to tease Sherlock.

"No, it isn't, but I'll try," Sherlock confirmed with a small smile. He contemplated how Molly's and Julia's presence this evening had started to affect him. The constant whirling of his mind had slowed down, this is what it must feel like to be _relaxed_. A curious feeling, Sherlock thought, and it was achieved quite easily, just by spending time with the two most special females in his life, the only two around whom he'd apparently allow for his guard to come down. Mycroft would be chiding him for becoming soft, but he quickly pushed away any thoughts of his brother and gently patted Julia's back while he was walking up and down in Molly's living room with his goddaughter feeling so warm in his arms.

Molly in the meantime turned off the oven as Sherlock and her food was ready. But dinner had to wait, as Julia had to be put to bed first. So Molly was preparing a bath for the little girl, and put out a fresh nappy and Julia's footed onesie for the night. After his goddaughter was burped, Sherlock handed Julia to Molly and watched on how Molly skillfully bathed the baby, then dried her, put on the nappy and clothes before putting her down in the travel-bed John and Mary had brought along when they dropped off Julia.

"Good night, sweet pea," Molly said and pressed a tender kiss on the baby's cheek.

"Tomorrow, I'll bring my violin to play you a lullaby, Miss Watson" Sherlock whispered as he gently ran his hand across Julia's head.

"Tomorrow?" Molly asked quietly, not trusting her ears.

"Of course tomorrow," Sherlock whispered, and pressed a gentle kiss on Molly's cheek. "I rather enjoyed this evening with Julia Watson - and with you, Molly Hooper."


End file.
